Confused? So am I
by Hobbit Hugger
Summary: (Hopefully) not your typical chick-falls-into-Middle-earth-turned-elfy. It's in diary format, and it's kind of funny. No slash, and not CharacterOC, I'm not good at that. Chapter three up! Does she follow the Fellowship...?
1. Falls

Confused? So am I.  
  
Okay people! I'm back again, this time with a fic in diary format. Ooooooh...all bow to ME!  
  
(Crickets chirp)  
  
...Well, this is just a little teaser. I might finish it, but only if I get lots of good reviews!  
  
(Crickets chirp)  
  
September 24  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
This is pointless. Writing, I mean. No-one's ever going to read this. Why bother? To learn about the boring life of a boring girl with the easily forgotten face? I doubt.  
  
So why write? Because I can, that's why. Might as well, what else have I do to? Homework (check); dishes (check); voice rehearsal (la la la la la la LA check).  
  
Except, now I have nothing to say. So, bye.  
  
September 25  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
This is just as pointless as it was yesterday, yet I continue. After much thinking on my part, I draw the conclusion that I keep at it because of a deep psychological flaw in my being.  
  
Another psychological flaw: My obsession with hobbits. And The Lord Of The Rings. And all related criteria. Yeah. Except elves. Elves I could do without.  
  
September 27  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
Why could I do without elves? Well, come ON, aloof, superior, self- centered, all-knowing, absolutely gorgeous down to that split hair that never was, et cetera. Talk about knowing you're perfect. Okay, there's a BIG difference between KNOWING you're hot, and flaunting it. Hobbits, though, are adorable, and don't even know HOW to flaunt it! I betcha their idea of flirting is something along the lines of, "I like your potato patch." "You're tomatoes are pretty nice." "Yeah." "Yeah." "Wanna dance?" "Okay."  
  
Isn't that sweet? No? Well, okay, it's LAME, but I have no idea how it REALLY goes. Jeez.  
  
September 30  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
One of the cheerleaders snatched my sketchbook today, while I was in the middle of drawing a dancer in a really graceful, eloquent pose.  
  
"What is this, porn?"  
  
"Ew, look, she's not WEARING ANYTHING!"  
  
"That's gross, you know, give her clothing!"  
  
I tried in vain to explain that you have to draw the body form first THEN the clothes otherwise it'll look unnatural, but do they listen?  
  
No.  
  
I mean, I wasn't drawing her absolutely NAKED!!! It was the regular starter form, with the lines through the body and everything! No face, but just the lines to determine where her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears would be.  
  
Useless cheerleader.  
  
October 6  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
Weird . . . I woke up today with a pounding pain in my shoulder. I complained to my mother, but she brushed it off as 'pre-exam nerves.' I don't even HAVE an exam today!!!  
  
Useless woman.  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
I'm having a dream. A nightmare. A concussion. Something. Anything.  
  
Why am I an here? What did I do to deserve this fate? No, this isn't real. There's no other way.  
  
. . . Right?  
  
I mean, it isn't possible for a human to be sucked from her world into some fantasy. This isn't happening! It can't be!  
  
Confused?  
  
So am I.  
  
October 7  
  
Okay, see, it went like this. And please forgive the ink spatters, my favorite pen got turned into a quill and bottle of ink. Anyway, I came home from a regular day at school yesterday, still in my uniform. I grabbed my favoritest sweatshirt—the black one that goes down to my knees, and I had the sleeves hemmed so that they actually fit, and it looks funky—and jeans and ran into the garage to throw my uniform into the washing machine. I pulled off my shirt and pants, tossed them and some soap into the wash, and turned it on. Everything happened normally. I pulled on my sweatshirt, putting my jeans down carefully. There. Okay. I picked up my bag of stuff; it was in the way of my jeans and I was about to step on it. Ouch. Yeah.  
  
Then I was hit by a—something. Yeah, that's right, a something. A something cold and hot at the same time. At first I thought it was Patrick and Kyle playing some kind of weird prank, blowing freezer-air and heated air at me from opposite sides, but them the something lifted my up. Up, up, up I go, until we reach . . . the stairs . . . No, wait, wrong.  
  
But up I go. Jesus, is this Over The Rainbow or what? I thought, fully comprehending that my brain was making up witty comments to keep itself from shutting down with shock. Although, as for witty, that was definitely not my best. Then I land. Hard. Ouch, it hurt . . . my legs still hurt from where I collapsed on them.  
  
Oh, and guess where I landed?  
  
Middle-earth. In some foresty place.  
  
Right in front of Frodo and Aragorn and Pippin and Merry and Sam.  
  
I was standing before fictional characters, naked but for a baggy, oversized black sweatshirt, carrying a black leather bag. Wait, leather? I stared at the bag, still reeling from shock.  
  
"Wow. It's . . . leather. Interesting. That's new." I looked up, gesturing at my bag. "Was cloth, you know. Cloth. Not dead cow. Or . . . horse. Or whatever. Cloth was good. Liked cloth."  
  
Then I passed out.  
  
Now I'm awake again, and we've just stopped to stuff Frodo onto Bill the pony . . . seems he just got stabbed on Weathertop.  
  
That was why I felt the pain in my shoulder, exactly where Frodo was impaled.  
  
But that doesn't EXPLAIN it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why in the nine hells would I feel Frodo's wound?!?! There's no logic behind this!!!!!!!!!!! None at all!!!!!!!! But if we're going into LOGIC, there's no logical reason for me to BE here!!!!!!!!!!!! What's going ON?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! HELP!!!!!!!!  
  
This is all a dream. When we take another rest for us to sleep, I'll go to sleep, and wake up, and be in my own bed, and I'll be home again . . . This is all a dream . . . a dream . . .  
  
October 8  
  
Oh my God. Ohhh my God. OH MY GOD. I really am in Middle-earth. I looked into my backpack and found that all my stuff was Middle-earthed. My favorite colored pencils were nothing more than colored sticks of...color. There was no wood on them at all. Eaurgh. And my tin box of my best colored pens? A wooden box, a beautiful one, much better than my tin one, but still not my other one, filled with bottles of ink in the twelve normal colors. Red, blue, yellow, green, orange, purple, red-violet, blue-purple, yellow- orange, red-orange, blue-green and yellow-green. And instead of pens, I had paintbrushes. Paintbrushes! Never mind this, I'll make a list of everything, from what it was to what it is now:  
  
Colored pencils – Sticks of color. Not that much of a difference, but still.  
  
Colored pens – Bottles of colored ink and twelve paintbrushes, one for each color.  
  
Plain black pens – Feather quills.  
  
Regular pencils – Lead. I swear, they're now six-inch-long sticks of lead, about as thick as a pencil. I could kill something with those. Oh yeah. Fear me and my drawing device of doom.  
  
Sketchpad – Actually, the only real difference is that the paper is thicker and creamier, and instead of being cardboard-covered and bound with a spiral wire, now its cover is leather and bound with a pale green silk ribbon. All my drawings are still there, too.  
  
Diary – Same as the sketchbook, actually. Oh and also, I'm not writing in English. Came as a shock to me when I put quill to paper and instead of English letters, I got Elvish script. Does that mean I'm an ELF?!?!?!?!?! Could explain Pippin's adoring looks, and Sam's stares of awe and worship . . . Jesus, I hope they don't start drooling . . .  
  
October 18  
  
Been a while . . . We've not gotten to rest at all! Till now, obviously . . . Arwen came, bless her, and took off with Frodo. Now we get to sit and rest for, oh, ten minutes, before Aragorn dizzies himself to death from his worried pacing and the hobbits cheer and rejoice and scramble like mad after Frodo and Arwen.  
  
Well, we're off again. No, sadly, the smelly man with the large sword is still alive and un-dizzy, I guess he's practiced worry-pacing before . . .  
  
October 23  
  
We made it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We're alive!!!!!!!!!!!! Frodo is here too, but he's still unconscious . . .  
  
I can't understand a thing the hobbits are gabbling at me . . . Judging by the excited tones, they're glad Frodo's alive but, now for the question sounds, When will he wake? or, Will he be alive if I go to sleep and wake up tomorrow?  
  
I have no idea . . . I don't even know what they're asking me!!!!!!!  
  
Pippin . . . is tugging . . . on my elbow. Sorry, short stuff, but the tall cold silent elf girl wants privacy please . . .  
  
Elrond to the rescue!!!!!!! He emerged from Frodo's quarters, looking rather, er, harried, and saw at once that I was not understanding the hobbits and all their gibberish. So he translated.  
  
Pippin: "Gibberish gibberish blah blah yakkity question sound?  
  
Elrond: "He wants to know how you managed to appear in the forest when the Ringwraiths were sure to have passed by?"  
  
I haven't any idea, I don't even know why I'm here, nor how I GOT here.  
  
Sam: "GIBBERISH STUFF-I-DON'T-UNDERSTAND EXCITED QUESTIONNESS?!?!?!?!?!"  
  
Elrond: "ARE YOU REALLY A REAL ELF LIKE EVERYONE HERE?!?!?!?!"  
  
No. I am not a real elf. I am a mushroom.  
  
Merry: Laughs. That I can understand.  
  
Pippin: " . . . Gibberish?"  
  
Elrond: " . . . Mushroom?"  
  
Sarcasm, Pippin. I really am an elf . . . I don't know WHY, though, I was a human in my own world.  
  
Sam: "GIBBERISH WORDS I DON'T KNOW MORE EXCITED TALKING SOUNDS?!!!!!!!!"  
  
Elrond: Sounds thoughtful as he repeats the question-statement-discovery thing. "You come from another world, Lady Elf?" Then, to me without a translation. "My lady, do you really hail from another world, or a land seemingly otherworldly compared to this?"  
  
I freakin' truly come from another land, I guess and alternate universe to yours, a parallel world, simply called Earth. I was washing my clothes when I fell into your world, sir, and that's the truth . . . I have my diary here! I hold it up. I wrote everything in it, sir, at every chance I got after I appeared here!  
  
He took it and read it, laughing slightly. The hobbits, poor them, looked like they felt quite ignored. I patted the one closest, Merry, on the head, and smiled at them, glancing at Elrond to see if he was done yet. He handed it to me.  
  
Elrond: "Indeed . . . and you say you felt Frodo's wound when he received it, though you were still in your world?"  
  
Yep. Woke up with it. Hurt like the lowest level of hell, begging your pardon, sir.  
  
Elrond: Thoughtfully, "Interesting . . . Well, I must tend to Mister Baggins now, my lady."  
  
I got up to leave before I realized that I had a hobbit dangling from my dress (they graciously gave us all brand new clothing, and the hobbits got theirs specially tailoured. I got a simple light green dress with white trim . . . I actually look like someone who wouldn't break a mirror! Shocks!)  
  
It was Sam, he was making more questions at me.  
  
That was then. This is now. He's still making questions at me, slower, like that'll help. Ah well, the thought that counts.  
  
Okay. I'm going to tell him, very sweetly, very slowly, VEEEEEEEEEEERY carefully, that, "Sam, honey, sweetie, darling, you adorable little hobbit you, I can't understand a word you're saying, and I'm getting tired, so can I please go to sleep?"  
  
"Oh. Sorry miss, didn't mean to bother you, I simply wanted to know your name."  
  
OMG. He understands Elvish!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Actually, he only understands a little, but he knew that I told him I was sleepy and wanted to go to bed, and that I didn't know what the hell he was saying. But he didn't KNOW that I wasn't understanding him, he thought I was being cold and standoffish, and he was trying very hard to charm his way into me simply telling him my name, so I hugged him, told him my name, and went to bed. I swear that hobbit was blushing.  
  
So, whaddaya think, people?! I'm not sure how this is really going to turn out, remember, it's just a little trailor, but if people don't like it, I'll just take this thing down too. Also, to my fans of my Kili story, I'll be updating soon, but I hit one heck of a writer's block and came to a screeching halt. I'm watching TTT over and over again, trying to make SOME little DROPLET of funny pop out at me that hasn't already been used in someone else's fic, but so far, so bad.  
  
Well, review please, and I might post the second chapter of this girl's diary!! (She doesn't even have a name yet!!! I haven't chosen one for her . . . IDEAS ANYONE?!?!?! Begs) 


	2. Meets

Confused? So am I.  
  
)i(  
  
Woo!!!!!! Okay, I got reviews!!! Nice ones, too, so I'll update this chapter and hope to get reviews for this one too!  
  
Sorry that it didn't really start off with much LotR-ness, the fic I mean, but now that this chica's in Rivendell, things should be Tolkiening up a lot.  
  
...I just hope this fic doesn't end up cheesy beyond belief. I'm also thinking of having the girl not remember her real name, so she chooses an Elvish name for herself. I like the name Wilwarin, it means Butterfly. Just as a cute little thing, I'm making those little aterisk-star thing (which aren't showing up on fanfiction.net anymore for some weird reason) that separate the entries and A/N's from each other be little " )i( " because it looks like a butterfly!  
  
Review with your opinions on this, please!  
  
)i(  
  
October 25  
  
Frodo's up. That's right, I remember the whole date thing now, when Gandalf tells him the time-slash-date et cetera of the day when Frodo wakes up. Yeah, 'cause he NEEDS that info. Maybe the poor hobbit needed his Sammy- wammy.  
  
Well, he certainly got him, because I was sitting on the balcony a little ways away from Frodo's room when I saw Sam sprint into the room like his very life depended on it. Merry and Pippin tried to sneak in after him, but I held them back, trying desperately to tell them that, sorry, guys, but he's just woken up from nearly DYING and would probably like one hobbit-hug at a time, thank you. I guess they got the message, 'cause they sighed, left, and about half an hour later I heard shouts and squeals and laughter from another balcony (which reminds me, how many balconies has this place GOT?!)  
  
)i(  
  
I don't think the cooks like me anymore...  
  
See, I was hungry, and I couldn't find the hobbits, who were sure candidates for having food, so I walk into the kitchen. Okay, no one here and, ooh, looky there, a pie!!! FOOOOOOOOD!!! So I grabbed it, and ow, HOT! It was good though, I think it was blueberry or something. I didn't even eat the whole THING, I just took a fork and dug in...  
  
Like they would blame an ELF when there are four HOBBITS around?  
  
Well, I bet they wouldn't, if it weren't for the fact that one cook caught me. With a mouthful of pie. And I think, yep, some of it was dribbling down my chin. Which was sad, 'cause the cook was kind of attractive.  
  
So I tried to flirt my way out of it all ("Hey there, wanna share some of this? licks spoon It's great...") which didn't work, because, hey, maybe EVERYONE here is gay or something. Anyway, then I tried bolting. That worked. So I decided, well, since I have no life, this reality or my own, I might as well write. So I grabbed my bag and ran for the library.  
  
That old wrinkly hobbit man, Bilbo, he's in here. I asked him if he would be so kind as to teach me Westron, and he agreed. Woohoo! I can now quite sufficiently say "Where is fill-in-the-blank's-name?", "Do you speak Sindarin?", and the ever-important "Where is the bathroom?" I tried learning the actual language, but Sir Wrinkly tried forcing the difference between consonant sounds and vowel sounds on me, so I bailed.  
  
Guess what?! I made daisy chains!  
  
Shut up, I know it's pathetic. But there's seriously nothing to do.  
  
Okay, you know what? I'm going to stop complaining about nothing interesting coming to me (because HELLO!!! I'm in MIDDLE-EARTH!!!!) and go to something interesting myself. So there. Mwaha.  
  
I think I'll go look for Frodo; he can speak Elvish, I think.  
  
)i(  
  
Oct. 26  
  
Well, as for yesterday, I decide to grace the elves with my holy presence (cough) and I sang. I guess I was okay, since no one in the world, this one or mine, has a voice to equal Amy Lee's. That's right, I sang Taking Over Me. Mwaha.  
  
And you know what really made me kind of upset? Since I don't have my LotR book, I didn't realize that yesterday was the Council of Elrond!!!!!!!! I totally missed it!!!!!! I lost my only chance of getting to go with the Fellowship!!!!!  
  
I MISSED MY ONLY CHANCE WITH FRODO.  
  
I have sinned.  
  
Wait...they aren't leaving for another, what, two months? I'm still good, right? Yeah...okay, so I have to beg Elrond to let me go with. Heh, yeah, he's really an old softie at heart. Although, I can just imagine that conversation:  
  
"Lord Elrond?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Can I go with the Fellowship on the journey, likely to my doom, so I can get a chance to give myself some fangirl-happy and kiss Frodo?"  
  
"..."  
  
Yeah. HAH! I guess I could, like, stalk them or something. I'd be way to embarrassed to actually ask Elrond anyway, geez...  
  
Yeah, I think I'll stalk them. Except that Legolas is an ELF, and Aragorn's like, the coolest Ranger in the world, and Gandalf's a wizard, and that Gimli thing is just SCARY. I'd get caught the second I stepped foot outside Rivendell. I could DIE, if I manage to keep from getting caught, I'm sure; an orc or something would kill me. I'm likely to starve to death, since the cooks hate me. I only know Elvish, so if I manage to not get caught, killed, or starved, if I get LOST, then I have no freakin' way of getting back to Rivendell.  
  
Good God, look, I have all those reasons NOT TO FOLLOW THE FELLOWSHIP!!! So I guess I won't. Also, I've got myself a sort of tour guide/babysitting/cook/entertainer job for the hobbits. Pippin, Merry and I are going to prank Rivendell like it's never been pranked before.  
  
Would you believe that ink and spaghetti noodles work just like Silly String? And who needs rubber spiders and mice when we have a FOREST right next door?  
  
Mwahahaha...  
  
)i(  
  
December 23  
  
Oh. My. God. I am so sorry!!!!!!!!!!!!! I haven't written in AGES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've been eternally busy, but I've made friends!!!!!!  
  
I've got myself three guy friends and a girl friend. Woo. Lilaïn's the girl, she's super cool. My guy friends are Fallanér, Tûlcon, and Lilaïn's older brother Lëriulòn. Jesus, those are some hard names to write.  
  
((A/N- can you tell I had fun with the Alt key? Ooh yeah... Alt 147: ô. Alt 148: ö. Hehehe...))  
  
Do they ALL have to have such fancy little decorations?! Honestly...  
  
Fallanér's the oldest, he's AGES old. He still looks about eighteen, though. He's got dark hair and eyes, and he's really tall. Lëriulòn is next oldest, but I don't remember his exact age, something-thousand or so, and he has light brown hair and green eyes. Tûlcon and Lilaïn are the same age, but they look like they're fourteen! They're so cute together, and they've been friends forever, they said. Tûlcon has inky-black hair and eyes just as dark, and Lilaïn is the only one with light hair and clear eyes!  
  
Actually, I'm serious, her hair is so 'light' it's not even got a colour!! It's almost white, that's how light blonde it is. And her eyes are so clear blue that they're almost white too! It's really scary, she's almost a ghost! Lëriulòn says that their mother has some kind of illness and it sapped the colour from Lilaïn. Does that mean she's an elven albino? Weird...but still cute!  
  
And on to other news...  
  
The Fellowship is leaving in one day!!!!!!!!!!! This is awful!!!!!!! I've only seen Frodo like, four times, and all I get is a polite, stiff, "Hello."  
  
Sigh-worthy. Not. I think I'm going to follow them...  
  
But WAIT! Okay self, re: above. Previous entry. See all those reasons NOT TO GO?!?!?!?! Yeah?!?!?! Okay, so you aren't going are you? Nope? No...? Wait...why are you packing?  
  
Damnit, why AM I packing?!  
  
Let's see, clothes:  
  
Tunics? Check. Shirts? Gotcha. Breeches? Leggings? Skirts? Dresses? Done and done-er. Capes? Coats? Small portable weapons? Yep, yep, yep. Nightclothes? Pillows? Blankets? Yessiree. Cooking stuff? Cutlery?? FOOD?!?!?!?!?!?!  
  
Okay, attack on the kitchen before I leave.  
  
DAMN...I'm gonna need a pack horse. Or eight.  
  
)i(  
  
Woo! Chapter two is done, and up! Reviewer responses!!!  
  
Tourniquetangel – Thanks so much!!! You're my first reviewer!!!! Have a muffin! Hands you a muffin Hands you another because you're my first reviewer  
  
pIPPINpIRATE – Thanks!! I thought the idea was cool too, hehe... and, well, here's more! Hands you a muffin too Hands you another because Pippin and pirates just rock  
  
ErendisJ – Yes, I am a girl. And, I hate it too, when they brag about that. But hey, this chica won't! Woo! Power to...er...whatever people who stalk the Fellowship are called. Yeah. Grins Have a muffin! Hands you a muffin And, since your review was so long, have another! Hands you another muffin  
  
Hallabrethiliel – WOOOOO!! Welcome back!!!! Everyone, give my Halla a nice welcome back from New Mexico!!! I'll think about using your name, okies? Le melon an-uir, aniarmuinthel nín! Have a muffin! Hands you a basketful because you're my Halla  
  
Almost Funny – Thanks! It's a new style I'm experimenting on, and decided, "hey, why not let everyone on ff.net tell me how they like it?" Have a muffin! Hands you two because your username is just that cool  
  
Dark Feruil – Woo!!!!! Long, LOOOOOONG time no talk, eh? Hope you enjoyed your graduation-ness! (By the way, loved your dress) How's YOUR summer vacation going? Mine sucks, because I have summer school... U.S. HISTORY CAN DIE!!!!! And...have a muffin! Have two! Hands you two muffins because you're just that cool 


	3. Tracks

Confused? So am I.  
  
)i(  
  
Alrighty, I'm back again, with the long-awaited third chapter! Don't worry, MarySue-Haters, she isn't going to become the tenth member of the Fellowship, woo! She IS, on the other hand...well, you'll see!  
  
By the way, I'm following the movie version, but I'm using the book's appendices to help me with the dates. If I make a mistake, review me and tell me about it, I'll fix it as soon as I can.  
  
)i(  
  
December 25  
  
It's nighttime. And a full moon, so I can see what I'm writing. Then again, Fallanér's being a sweetie and lighting me a candle.  
  
Yeah, you heard me. Fallanér's here. So are the others, my other friends. Apparently, I've been talking about nothing but the Fellowship and how awesome it would be to follow them, so they decided to surprise me by taking me to follow them. Little did they know (except Lilaïn, who's now my best friend, had a pretty good hunch that I'd try to go myself) that I was already planning that.  
  
Smart chick. Not that I was giving out the subtlest hints I could, there was no subtlety in them at all. Psh.  
  
So they followed me. They cornered my three (yeah, I'm ashamed, three) pack- laden horses and I. Confronted me.  
  
"You can't go, you could be killed!"  
  
"You can hardly lift that sword, let alone wield!"  
  
"I can't believe you were this reckless!"  
  
"YOU WERE GONNA LEAVE WITHOUT ME?!?!?!"  
  
Lëriulòn, Tûlcon, and Fallanér were, of course, concerned for my safety (and sanity) but Lilaïn was hurt that I tried to leave her out. Sorry, Snow White, but I'd lose you on Caradhras.  
  
I shrugged. "Aren't YOU the least bit curious about their mission?"  
  
Tûlcon nodded fiercely, so I knew I had two supporters so far. Now to convince the others...  
  
But, to my utter disappointment, Fallanér and Lëriulòn looked unimpressed. "Sorry," Lëriulòn smirked, "but we aren't in the mood for a suicide mission. Plus, Lilaïn, you know what Mother said...we can't leave. We're going...to the Valinor."  
  
The Valinor. It seemed familiar. Where had I heard it? I wondered. Then I remembered. That's that place where... "Isn't that where elves go to...er, die? Or, like, isn't that their Heaven?"  
  
"That is our peace. That is the Undying Lands. If an elf does not pass into the Halls of Mandos, dead like a mortal, we sail across the Sea and spend the rest of forever in the land of eternal spring and summer." Fallanér looked more serious than I had ever seen him. Lëriulòn added, "And because we have no hope for Man and their war against the Dark Lord, we are fleeing to the Valinor in one mortal year."  
  
"What?!" Lilaïn suddenly had tears in her eyes. "Mum...she never told me that!"  
  
Lëriulòn inhaled sharply. "She...she didn't?!"  
  
I sensed that this, while very interesting, was not the time for me to get them to go with me on my death wish-mission. This was one hell of a family- talk moment, so I backed out and hid behind a pony.  
  
After about half an hour, (most of which, I was asleep) they all decided to help me. Lilaïn refuses to leave my side for anything, Lëriulòn refuses to leave his little sister, Tûlcon wants to go because danger equals awesome in his teenage (sort of) mind, and Fallanér's going because Lëriulòn is his best friend. Plus, they ALL want to stay in Middle-earth for longer, they don't want to go to the Valinor and therefore, are running away.  
  
Woohoo, I'm a bad influence!  
  
So anyway, here we are, camped faaaaar away from the Fellowship, but we know that they've stopped to rest, since the hobbits certainly aren't used to this traveling deal yet.  
  
Writing softer, and I have to close up, Lilaïn's curled up next to me and is trying to fall asleep, and my quill scratching is keeping her up.  
  
P.S: Noticing less splatters? Good! I'm getting better at this ink thing, and seriously getting into this elvish script stuff. Looks pretty, I can't believe I'm writing this (and reading it too!)  
  
)i(  
  
December 30  
  
Midnight or something...  
  
Ugh...why didn't I bring my copy of the books?! WHYYYY??? It would have made life easier...if I had it, I would be able to check, gee, where's the Fellowship? How far away are they? Is it safe to light a campfire yet, 'cause I'm FREEZING! And of course, the ever-useful, WHEN DO WE GET TO GO HOME?!?!?! I wish I'd brought my books...  
  
Actually, I wish I'd brought ANY books, because riding for hours at a time is really starting to bug me. Oh well, we're better off than the Fellowship, HA, they have to walk. This still sucks though. I can't believe I thought it'd be all fun and games. Oh yeah, woohoo, I get to ride for hours and hours and HOURS every single day with nothing to say (and trust me, conversation goes stale after the first hour or five of the first DAY) or do or ANYTHING.  
  
We sit on the horses. We ride. And ride. And ride some more. If the others sense that, hey, we're getting too close, they could spot us, then we stop and either make camp if the Fellowship is, or we wait for three hours minimum (ugh! HOURS!) until the Fellowship is out of sight again.  
  
I miss my DVD player. And my TiVo. And my computer. NO INTERNET!  
  
I don't really miss my family all that much though. I wonder if they even know I'm gone? Did time stop back home, so that when (if?) I get back, no time will have gone by? Or are the police searching everywhere for the tiniest clue as to where I've vanished? Does anyone even care at all?  
  
Of course they do, I mean, a girl can't go missing and have NO-ONE notice. My schoolteachers, my parents, my brother—someone's bound to sit up and think, Hey, where's that really annoying artist chick?  
  
Right?  
  
I'm such a complainer. I should really stop.  
  
Candle dying, 'night.  
  
)i(  
  
January 9  
  
We've stopped for a while, the Fellowship is on Caradhras now. Sorry guys (they wanted to follow them) but I KNOW that we shouldn't follow them to THAT route.  
  
"But this was YOUR idea, to follow them!" Tûlcon griped. Sorry pal, but you aren't gonna want to be on that mountain in a few days.  
  
"Then we'll follow them OFF the mountain."  
  
Why bother when we can beat them to their destination? Eh? Tell me, why?  
  
"..."  
  
Exactly.  
  
)i(  
  
January 13  
  
HAHA, Tûlcon, what'd I tell you? See that avalance? Yeah? We would've DIED, had I not stopped us. Oh yeah, I saved the day. Now, what'll you do for me, O Willing Slave?  
  
"You're deluded, you know that? Absolutely mental."  
  
Yeah, but I saved your ass.  
  
"...Beside the point."  
  
Oh, fuck off a cliff and die, Tûlcon. You owe me and you know it.  
  
Anyway, we're hiding in Moria. Yep, I did indeed say "in" as in "inside" the Mines of Hell—er, Moria. I know the password, after all, and I know that if we're VERY good and quiet, the orcs'll stay away from us. At least until the Fellowship—  
  
They're here!  
  
)i(  
  
January 18  
  
Ohhhhhhh my God. Okay, anyone who says that it'd be easy or at least not super-hard to just stand by and watch Gandalf fall, even though you know he's coming back, must be crazy. Because it's not.  
  
Ohhh is it ever NOT. NOT easy. VERY not easy.  
  
Okay, tell...right, I'll tell now...  
  
Okay, after the Fellowship arrived in, I realized that hey, you know, we're caught and screwed over a few billion times if we don't get our asses out of their way. So away we go, while they're fighting the Watcher in the Water. BOYYYYY was that set of stairs ever hard to get the horses up. But we managed (DON'T ask me how, apparently Elven horses defy all laws of physics and logic) and ran past Balin's tomb, through those huge halls that impressed Sam so very very much, across that thin scary bridge and out of Moria. Woohoo for us, but I think Legolas might have heard the horses' hooves on the stone...damn dwarves and their obsession with rocks. So we're out. Joy.  
  
But I really REALLY wanna see the Fellowship again, and watch Gandalf vs. the Balrog LIVE!  
  
Boy, was that dumb.  
  
We watch helplessly as the coolest old guy in the world falls to in inevitable doom. Sure, I know he'll be back, but the others don't, and I don't know if I should tell them. Would it affect the future? I mean, they aren't in the original plot of the movie or the books, so technically, it shouldn't matter whether they know or not.  
  
Legolas, I'm very certain, now knows that at least SOMEone is following them, and it isn't Gollum he's thinking of. Lilaïn screamed as Gandalf fell, but only Legolas gave any signs of hearing, everyone else was too busy looking shocked or being scared or being Frodo and shouting "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" at the top of his lungs. Legolas, on the other hand, dragged Gimli out of there, while looking around suspiciously, paying a lot of attention to a few metres away from the exit, which is probably where he thought Lilaïn's scream had come from.  
  
Fallanér, suddenly, realized that they're all coming RIGHT AT US, and if we don't HIDE, then we're screwed for sure. So we jump on the horses and bolt towards Lothlorien. These horses ROCK like no other, because it took us a day to get to Lothlorien (we did ride a little at night too though) while it would take the Fellowship way longer. Thankfully, Haldir's brother Rumil knew Lëriulòn's and Lilaïn's parents, so we were allowed inside. Sad for me, but no Galadriel-summons to her awesome mirror. To her I guess I'm just another regular elf chick. Damn, doesn't she know? What about that all- seeing mirror thing?  
  
Oh well. Would've been cool to look into it, though.  
  
So here we are. In Lothlorien. The coolest fucking Elf-city in, well, everywhere. And what are we supposed to do?  
  
Sit and wait.  
  
WAIT?! For the Fellowship to find out we've been tracking them for ages?! I think not!  
  
...I'll pretend I'm a Lorien Elf. Can't be THAT hard.  
  
Ah well.  
  
)i(  
  
Woohoo! Another chapter up! Longest one so far, too!  
  
Now for reviewer thank-yous!!!  
  
Almost Funny – ::Takes sticker:: Oooh....SHINEY! Thanks! I'm updating, I'm updating!! Pleeeeeease don't turn Frodo into something Gollum-y with...beautiful blonde hair...er...actually... ::resists urge to huggle the blonde-Frodo-Gollum thing:: And...this chapter's baked goods gift for reviewing is... ::whips out a basket of something:: CUPCAKES!!! Here, have a cupcake! ::hands you a cupcake with green frosting::  
  
ErendisJ – Yes, the color thing was a mistake on my part, but I did it on purpose. I figure that Lëriulòn (the one with the messed-up color scheme) just has lighter hair and eyes because his mother's disease just barely skimmed him while she was pregnant with him, before hitting poor Lilaïn full-on (I also know that Elves don't get sick, but this plays into the plot later.) That's why Lilaïn's practically an albino, sort of. And I'm glad you're being seriously Tolkien-fact, we need more people like that here! Glad you liked the muffin too! Here, have a cupcake this time! ::Hands you a cupcake with blue frosting::  
  
::Stands on a brightly-lit stage, very serious-looking::  
  
Just a warning, people...  
  
Okay, before I even posted this fic, I had three chapters written already. Well, this is the third chapter...I have to write the rest!! So there's going to be a gap between updates now, and I'm really sorry. I just didn't expect such good reviews, since it is kind of Mary-Sue-ish (I think so at least). I should be back and updating in about a week or so, but try not to hold me to that. Thanks for being so awesome and reading (and hopefully, reviewing) this fic!  
  
::Walks calmly offstage::  
  
::Suddenly, a single spotlight shines on Merry and Pippin, in outfits complete with top hats, canes, and those weird shoes-and-tux things::  
  
MERRY: Go on, see that PREEEEETTY blue review button? You know you want to review...it's calling for you...it wants to love you and be your friend forever and ever!  
  
::A piano plays the tune of Miss Mary Mack::  
  
PIPPIN: ::bobbing up and down singing:: it's the review button, button, button!  
  
MERRY: ::also bobbing:: it is a glutton, glutton, glutton!!  
  
PIPPIN: The more reviews, the happier it is, is, is!  
  
MERRY: ::scared:: Hobbit Hugger won't paint us purple is you review this, this, this...  
  
PIPPIN: So click the button to review, view, view...  
  
BOTH: ::together:: AND WE'LL LOVE YOU, YOU, YOU!!!!!!!  
  
::They bow and walk off the stage:: 


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